Love from the couch
by Loes-chan
Summary: Jane manages to keep himself in control at all times... but what happens when Lisbon accidentally finds out about his feelings?   Jane/Lisbon fanfic, has just two chapters and is now complete.
1. Chapter 1: The Darkness

Love from the couch

**A/N Hi everyone, I'm publishing this story again, because the previous version just didn't work out. This is a story with a little bit angst, humor, fluff.. you name it XD It just wrote itself, so I hope you like it.  
>Disclaimer: Yep. I own everything.<strong>

**...**

**Okay, you got me. I don't.**

**_  
><strong>  
>Chapter 1: The Darkness<p>

Jane was laying on his couch, like usual. People were walking back and forth, paying no attention to him. Also like usual. There was a case, but they already knew the what, why and who, and Rigsby and Cho just left to arrest the guy who did it. Nothing weird there, too.

Then why was it that he felt so… strange? Inside, everything definitely felt abnormal.

Of course he knew why; he could read himself just as well as he could read other people. Figuring what was wrong with him wasn't the problem at all. Oh, he knew alright.  
>He just couldn't stop wishing he didn't know. Jane shifted a little on his couch, sneaking a peek at the closed door of Lisbon's office.<p>

Strong, beautiful Lisbon. She was different than anyone he knew; she always had been. She wasn't anything like Angela, who had been soft, kind, and always positive. He always wanted to protect her from the big, bad world around them. Lisbon was tough; hardened by life. She could be childish, but she was a fighter. Not to mention, totally bad-ass.  
>Jane couldn't help but grin. Everything was always about her job, no matter what she had to give up for it.<br>But she would always find justice, even for the ones that didn't deserve it. And she knew about his plans of revenge, moreover: she didn't _just_ know. She accepted them, like she accepted him. Even Angela wasn't able to accept all of the flaws that came with him. But Lisbon… She often protected him while thinking he didn't know. The consultant snorted. As if.

Since a while he kept thinking about her more and more often. He used to read poetry to his wife, even though he didn't really like it. Poetry was all about love and peace, and it was a stupid way of concealing what you really wanted to say. Jane was more about the direct ways of telling things.  
>But when he thought about Lisbon, he thought about words. About ways to describe how he felt when she smiled. When he heard her, shouting his name in alarm when he'd sneaked off again.<br>Words formed in his head. But he wasn't ready to share them with her, yet.  
>He didn't know when the moment would come when he finally could.<p>

He didn't know if he ever could.

It started innocently. He was thinking of a way to describe her when a new colleague asked him about her. And for the first time in years he found that he was actually stammering. The guy asked about their relationship. Jane had sucked in a breath and had regained his calm. He told the man he was tired of answering stupid questions and walked away, back to his familiar couch.  
>Like he was totally superficial about the whole thing.<p>

But he wasn't.  
>It scared the crap out of him.<br>When he first started working for the CBI, he never thought that he would ever be able to feel something like this… again for someone.  
>And by someone, he never ever would have thought he would actually come to…<br>Come to love his "boss".  
>Of course, it could never happen. It wasn't supposed to happen.<br>He wasn't supposed to have feelings that strong ever again.  
>And yet he did.<br>So what to do now? He couldn't tell her –not because it was against the rules, because he had broken those often enough. To hell with the rules. No, even if she might feel the same about him, it was too dangerous. Jane couldn't magically be healed again, and rebuild his life with Lisbon, while Red John was still there. He couldn't give up his revenge. If red John might do something to her… She would never be safe. He had to make sure Red John wouldn't get to her. Something that proved to be almost impossible.  
>She would lose all of her freedom, and every day he would be afraid to come home and see a note sticking to the door. To see a red smiley on the wall, painted with Lisbon's blood.<p>

He would never do that to her.

He loved her to much for that.

So he was doing all he could do: loving her from his couch.

But nothing in life was certain. And as days, weeks passed, he felt worse. Every time she touched his arm and gave him a secret, proud smile because he helped them solve the case it got worse. When he caught her gaze he saw something there, a hint that she looked at him the same way as he looked at her. But she was Lisbon, and she was too stubborn, too good at what she does to let it get to her. Not like how it got to him.  
>Patrick Jane sighed and ruffled his hand through his magnificent hair, causing it to curl even more. He never wanted any attention from women, even though he got plenty. Instead, he holds on to this wedding ring, locking himself up in a mental case. He became cold and passive but his mind could function. It was the only way he could keep himself from falling apart.<br>But now, things were slowly changing. He didn't keep all of the strings tightly grasped in his hands anymore.  
>He couldn't stay silent about his feelings for much longer now, no matter how much it frustrated him.<br>He closed his eyes once again, ignoring a worried remark from Grace.  
>And inside his head, his feelings overflowed.<p>

A few moments later –he lost track of time, someone pinched his nose. He didn't need to open his eyes to know who it was.  
>"Ouch, Lisbon," he mumbled, pretending to sound sleepy. She didn't fall for it.<br>"Jane, get up. It's late," she continued when he didn't response. "Cho and Rigsby already went home."  
>Huh. Guess a lot of time passed without him really noticing.<br>"It's okay, I'm fine… right here. But," he added on an afterthought. "Maybe if you would make me a cup of tea… For all you know, I might just change my mind." He knew she was worried about him. He didn't plan to take advantage of it –he just hoped she would let it go when he would say a few annoying things. Strangely enough, he didn't feel another pinch: he didn't even hear her answer. Carefully, he peeked through one eye. Lisbon was gone. He opened his other eye.  
>The office was lit only by the dim light of the lamp on Grace's desk and the lights in Lisbon's office. The windows showed only darkness. For a second Jane believed that she really left him there and it slightly disturbed him. Sure, he wanted her to leave but at the same time… didn't. But then, as he pushed himself up, he spotted a piece of her grey suit. She was in the kitchen. He heard the jingle of glasses bumping against each other and strengthened his slightly wrinkled suit. The blonde consultant couldn't help but grin at the familiar smell coming from the kitchen.<br>Wait, was she really making tea for him? For real?  
>A grin spread out over his face as he heard the sound of the tea kettle. A few minutes later Lisbon came walking to him, holding a tray with two mugs. She put it on a small table and pulled a chair towards her so she could sit across of him.<br>With a sigh, she sat down. She gestured at the mugs.  
>"I got you some tea."<br>"You did," He said, still a little surprised. "You're having tea, too? You're finally growing up, Lisbon!" She raised an eyebrow at him.  
>"Growing up? You drink nothing <em>except<em> tea, and I wouldn't exactly call _you_ mature." He simply grinned at that, sipping from his tea. To his utter surprise, she had made it just the way he liked it: Mango-passion fruit flavor, not too hot either.  
>"This is… perfect, Lisbon. You want to make up for something or what? No… No that's not it…" He narrowed his eyes at her. "You're worried… because we had this Red John case the other day and <em>you<em> think I'm breaking down. Is that it?" He gave her a smug wink when she sighed very deep. Jane wanted to continue, when he saw it. He saw it in her eyes, in the way she was sitting on the chair. It was more than that.  
>He wasn't sure if he wanted to know.<br>He decided he didn't.  
>But it wasn't wrong to just fool around and pretend, was it? As long as she wouldn't become too close to him.<br>"Thank you," he genuinely said, holding up his cup. "It's great." Lisbon smiled. Not just a smile.  
>This was way more than 'just a smile'.<br>Oh crap. It was hard enough to keep all of _his_ emotions and feelings stuffed away, without her showing hers so clearly. It was written all over her face.

She loved him.  
>Like he loved her.<br>He couldn't stop himself from softly laughing with her.

"Remember when we went to that high school reunion?" The female agent asked with shining eyes. "When we danced on that song?" he nodded. "We should do that again sometimes… maybe with the rest of the team, doing something that won't involve dead bodies for once. Wouldn't that be fun?" She put her now empty cup back on the plate and looked at him expectantly. He really didn't think it would be a good idea. Cho wasn't a dancer, and Rigsby and Van Pelt would be staring at each other the whole evening, too afraid to ask the other to dance. But he could imagine dancing with Lisbon, smelling the sweet scent of her hair and the feel of her soft body, safely in his arms. He would _love_ to dance with her. But he shouldn't.  
>And she could tell when he was lying.<br>So he just shrugged.  
>"I think so." She nodded, unsure. A little nervous maybe.<br>"Okay… We'll see." She picked up the plate. "You're ready to go home now? I didn't make the tea for nothing."  
>"That depends… which home are we talking about?" he teased.<br>"In your dreams, Patrick Jane!" Oh, she would be alright.  
>She nudged him playfully at his side and brought the plate to the kitchen. "You're coming?" He followed her to the elevator, like a little puppy.<br>Despite him trying with all his might to keep a distance, he felt that distance becoming smaller and smaller.

It was night, or probably already morning.  
>Patrick Jane was lying in this bed in his motel, wide awake. He couldn't sleep. He hadn't been able to sleep for an entire night without remembering. Remembering the blood on the wall. Remembering them. But also remembering himself. His old self, and all of the mistakes he made. It was really hard not to. Instead, he pictured himself, talking to Lisbon. Him, watching her face when he gave her the pony for her birthday. She always looked like that when she was pleasantly surprised.<br>He turned to lie on his back and stared up at the rose-colored ceiling. Sometimes, a car would pass and a fleck of light would glide through the room. He closed his eyes, embracing the darkness. He felt so… lonely. What would it be like, if she would be here at this very moment… Embracing him. Laying next to him. He would run with his hands through her hair and she would smell like cinnamon and taste like his favorite tea. No, even better than tea. Maybe, if he would ever be able to kill Red John…

Would he allow himself to be happy once again?

He didn't really think of the future, the time after Red John.  
>In his mind everything just stopped after that. His job, his house... they all losed their purpose.<p>

But she would never become _not needed_. He just wanted to be able to let himself give in to his feelings, to throw away the mask that kept his features in place.  
>Even if it would be just for a single moment, a single night. They would fall asleep and the next morning… he would wake up early and be surprised to feel her, resting against his chest. And he would look at her, up close. He would see her breathing, see her chest rise and fall…<br>He wanted it. He wanted her to be there so badly that he had to clench his hands into fists to stop him from doing something he would regret later.

His alarm told him 5 o'clock when he opened his eyes later, feeling frustrated. His insomnia had gotten so bad that Jane didn't know if he would be able to last for much longer. His head kept on turning, turning and turning. But maybe he would be able to sleep at his couch? No. Not his couch. He tried to sleep there all day. But maybe he could try to sleep at Lisbon's couch? He might as well try that, since she was all he was thinking about anyway. So he silently got up, put on his grey suit jacket and left.  
>The building was still dark, but luckily the security guy was at his post, not even half asleep. He didn't even have to wave his pass. Every security guard knew about him and his habit to come to the station in the early morning, and his grey Citroën was allowed to pass without a word.<p>

When the elevator reached his floor, he went straight to Lisbon's office, not bothering to turn on the lights. On the way he almost tripped over some kind of comic book. Annoyed, he kicked it away. On the way to her couch, he grasped a sheet and a pen with the purposes of writing her a note not to wake him up. When he settled in the soft, white leather of the couch he bought her, an idea struck him.  
>He wasn't going to fall asleep anyway, so why bother? Maybe, he could do something else entirely. The white sheet appeared so very white in the light of the slowly rising sun. Maybe he could write down everything… Just to have it on paper. Maybe all of those stupid feelings wouldn't claim all of his thoughts anymore and he would have some rest again; maybe if he wrote them on a piece of paper, all of the words he kept thinking about over and over again would be <em>there<em> instead of in his head. It was a stupid idea really, but worth a try.

So Patrick Jane did something he'd never did before; he started writing down exactly what he felt. Maybe he would burn it down afterwards, but at least he was being honest to himself. And as soon as he had registered everything he loved about Lisbon, he could put it in a drawer in his memory palace and put a tight lock on it.

That would be for the best.

He rested his head on the arm rest for a second when the exhaustion, caused by his insomnia, caught up with him. He helplessly gave in to his body, demanding necessary sleep, but not before pressing the sheet safely against his chest.  
>The pen fell out of his hand and rolled over the floor, where it came to a halt at Lisbon's desk, but Jane didn't notice anymore.<p>

He was asleep. 


	2. Chapter 2: The Light

Chapter 2: The Light

**A/N  
>For the original readers of `Love from the couch´: Sorry guys! I haven't updated this in months! I'm such a lousy person. You probably don't remember what the first chapter was about, too.<br>Well, good!  
>I have changed the first chapter completely and I hope it's better now. I sort of got rid of the songfic thing, so if you have complaints: tell me!<strong>

**It's a little fluffy-the-fluffluf and it ran away with me. My beta thinks this chapter is weird, but she wouldn't explain why… It probably is. So if you think it's weird, let me know okay? This was supposed to be a one shot.. But it was not enough for the gods of fanfiction. Or plot bunnies, according to pretty good some writers out here. ^^ Anyways, here it is. Enjoy.  
><strong>  
>When Lisbon came into the bullpen that morning, she felt that something was off. Nothing big, just some slight difference in the air... It made her feel a little bit uneasy. She shrugged the feeling off, thinking that it was just because she'd come in early today. Heading for her office, Teresa almost tripped over a comic book that was laying on the floor next to Rigsby's desk. With a deep sigh -because Superman, really?- she put her bag on Van Pelt's desk. Determined to make sure the book would never see the light of day again (and preferably not somewhere Hightower would ever see it) she heard it. A small, almost dismissive sound coming from her office. If she hadn't been a detective, she would probably never have heard it, but her job required to pick up on things like this. Alarmed, her hand reached for her gun. With her weapon drawn, she silently approached her working place, expecting anything...<p>

Forget that.  
>She had been expecting anything but this: her snotty, annoying, pain-in-the-ass consultant was laying on her couch. Seemingly asleep. But that couldn't be. Patrick Jane didn't sleep. Lisbon knew he was suffering from insomnia for as long as she remembered. Maybe the exhaustion finally caught up with him..? That was possible, but it didn't explain why in all places he was sleeping on HER couch, in HER office. What right did he think he had to be here in the middle of the night? But waking him up seemed... Well, cruel somehow. Lisbon shook her head to get rid of that thought. Why would she suddenly be soft on him now? He was the very reason she got in so early today. The pile of paperwork had been so depressing last night that she had just left it. Against her very nature she left around five, wishing her stunned co-workers a good evening and feeling surprisingly good when she felt the stares burning in her back. Of course, when she woke up this morning around six, she felt guilty about it. Like she knew she would. Apparently, self-changing was a lot harder than she thought it would be. At half past six she found herself in her car, driving to work. And here he was. Mister know-it-all, I-never-tell-you-anything, the most smug jackass she had ever met was laying on her couch. Lisbon decided she had every right to wake him up and make <em>him<em> do some real work for once. The petite agent threw a dark look at the pile on her desk and felt an sudden urge to smack him. When she got closer, though, she froze. Jane was looking as innocent as a freaking angel, his golden locks framing his head like a shining halo. Teresa sighed and decided to just leave him be. He wasn't going to help her anyways. Besides, waking up someone who suffered from insomnia really wás a mean thing to do. He seemed to have pressed something against his chest, though, what seemed to be a kind of note. Curious, she tried to wriggle it from his grasp, but failed. He was grasping it too tightly and didn't she just decided to let him sleep? Her desk chairs creaked a little when she sat down and she startled, hoping she didn't wake him up. Thankfully he was still asleep. She only got up once, to fetch her bag -that she'd left on Van Pelt's desk- and after that threw herself at the files.

She didn't notice when Jane's deep breath suddenly got quiet. Nor that he slowly blinked and opened his eyes. The blond consultant studied the ceiling for a moment, feeling a little dazed. Where was Elvis..? Then his head jerked in Lisbon's direction.  
>This she noticed, and she looked up with a soft smile.<br>"Hey sleepyhead, had a good rest?" she asked amused. Speechless, he nodded. Jane sat up slowly, absently trailing a hand through his hair. He opened his mouth but found himself suddenly without words. How would he explain this? He couldn't tell her that 'he kept thinking about her all night long so he decided to go sleep in her office because somehow that helped', could he?  
>"I, uh..." he tried, thinking hard. "I was...uh,"<br>"It's okay, Jane," she interrupted him. "If you really want to sleep somewhere you can use my couch... But only if you are really quiet," she quickly added, thinking about him pestering her in her office all day. If he was going to be here without leaving...ever... Horrified, she closed her eyes for a second. No way in hell.  
>Jane finally had regained his calm and was now grinning softly, guessing her thoughts.<br>"Thank you, Lisbon, I really appreciate your offer, but I'll be fine." He got up and straightened his grey three piece suit. "I'm going to my own couch now. I have a feeling Elvis misses me," he cheerfully offered as an explanation at her raised eyebrows and left. As soon as he was out the door, he bowed his head in defeat. Because 'for the best' or not, it didn't seem to matter. He couldn't put his love for Teresa away in a drawer. He couldn't forget her.

Minutes after he was gone, agent Lisbon was still wondering what was going on with her consultant. He was acting strange... She even gave him practically an invitation to stalk her in her office all day, and he refused. Lost in thoughts, she didn't notice the scrap of paper until lunch break. Just as she'd stood up to buy herself a sandwich, something caught her eye. Laying on her couch was the note Jane had been holding earlier. It was folded and she really, really, really shouldn't look. But, as she checked by sticking her head out the door, Jane was gone and everyone was too busy to notice anything she did.  
>And didn't she want to find out what was wrong with Patrick Jane? Besides, he would have taken it with him if it was that important.. Right? With shaking hands she picked it up and folded it open.<p>

She should have known that with Jane, all of her expectations were bound to be off.

Part of her wanted to scream 'Jane!' and yell at him for such a ridiculous prank... But the other part kept telling her that maybe, maybe this was not Jane trying to be funny.  
>With trembling hands, the female detective stared at the words written on the paper.<p>

_Why I love Teresa Lisbon_

_I love her beautiful green emerald eyes and the smile on her face when she just solved a case and thinks nobody is looking. I love her loyalty to anyone, even those that don't deserve it. And even though she denies it, she is really beautiful. She is the only good thing that is in my life right now.  
>I love that she is always looking out for me. I love the way she yells at me, when she threatens me while knowing she'll never do any of those things. I love how she secretly wants to fix me, even though I'm beyond repair. I love how she accepts me anyway. I love her embarrassment when she wears a dress or when I caught her secretly singing to herself. I love it when she drinks my tea or hugs me. I love it how she loves me, even though she doesn't realize that yet. Even though I'm me. And I love<br>_  
>After that word, a long trail went over the paper, indicating that he had fallen asleep at that point. Lisbon's hands were shaking when she folded the paper shut and put it down as if it was on fire.<p>

Would Jane really be in love with her? Or more importantly: Was she in love with Jane?  
>She couldn't be... Could she? Slowly panicking, she started to pace in her office. Of course, Teresa honestly liked her consultant. Even though he was a insufferable jackass, he had proven to be pretty useful on the job. And with a past like his, it couldn't be too abnormal, even though she hated to admit it. Wait, what did it say about him secretly listening to her singing? She was going to kill him for that! No no no: first she had to figure out if she loved him or not. No she didn't. If course she didn't! Then why was she doubting herself so much?<br>Okay, now she was officially freaking out. She was not. In. Love. With. Anyone. Confident that that was the truth, Lisbon picked up the finished paperwork to give it to Hightower. Pretending that she didn't hear her inner voice screaming at her, she put on a smile and left.

Jane was just coming back from his hiding place one floor down, where he had been spying on people. He'd just wanted to be away so he could think freely. And after a few hours he had realised something. It didn't matter how much he didn't want to be in love with Teresa. It didn't matter that it would complicate things. Forgetting her wasn't going to work anyway. His feelings weren't going to change, and neither were hers. Maybe he should just accept it and... be true to himself. And maybe even be true to her. He blinked a few times. Would it be worth endangering her? Yeah. Yeah, it was. Suddenly his bad mood lifted. Patrick Jane decided he was giving up.

He was going to give in and love Teresa Lisbon.

He looked around and briefly wondered where everyone was, until he realized that it was around lunchtime. Lisbon was gone, too, which was good. Nowadays, he worried about her eating enough during the day.  
>Speaking of the devil, the consultant heard familiar, soft footsteps behinds him and flashed a grin.<p>

Lisbon strode into the bullpen, her chin raised up high, almost defiantly... And she totally ignored him. Patrick Jane narrowed his eyes, temped to grasp her hand and to ask her what was wrong. Or he could just pull her against him and kiss her senseless -okay, no need to be going crazy now, he felt strange now that he finally had given in to his feelings. Now that he allowed himself to love her, everything seemed bright somehow. Maybe it was just him. He would have almost believed it, if he didn't know her so well. He might even know her better than he knew himself, if that was even possible.  
>Sometimes he thought he didn't even know himself at all.<br>She couldn't still be mad about him sleeping in her office, could she? That would be weird, considering that she even told him to do it more often... Well, sort of anyway. Maybe she was angry that he didn't stay? Because she secretly loved him, too? He knew she did.  
>But she didn't know she did.<br>Did she?  
>This was becoming a little too complicated, Jane admitted to himself.<br>After all she didn't know that he loved her either.

Shock crossed his face when he remembered. No way. There was no way he'd forgotten that note. His hands patted all his pockets, feeling nothing. Coming up with nothing. He wanted to curse at himself for doing something so inevitably stupid.  
>Okay. She might still think it was a joke.<br>He toyed with that thought for a moment, but quickly dismissed it. If she would still think that, she would have called him out on it already. No, she was serious. Should he just tell her he loved her? What would she do?

Possibility one: "Lisbon, I love you."  
>"...Wait a moment, let me get my gun first."<br>Possibility two: "Lisbon, I love you."  
>"I love you too! Let's marry, go live in a house with a white picket fence and buy a couch together!"<p>

He dreamily stared in a distance. Buying a couch with Lisbon... That would be the perfect first date. Not to mention the things they could do ON the couch... He quickly got rid of that idea before it got out of hand. Maybe he really should just tell her the truth. After all, she MIGHT just choose the second option...  
>He finally felt like himself again.<p>

Teresa looked up at a knock on her door. Without waiting for her consent, Jane popped in, smiling wickedly. Oh great, maybe it WAS a joke after all, Lisbon thought embarrassed, immediately regretting her actions. "My dearest Lisbon," he began, leaning with his elbows on her desk. "I want to ask you something very important."  
>Okay, so maybe it wasn't a joke. The female detective nervously swallowed and tensed.<br>"Lisbon, will you buy a couch with me?"  
>"I... Wait, what?"<br>"Shall we buy a couch together?" he asked, unable to temper his enthusiasm.  
>"Why?" she choked out, totally taken by surprise.<br>"Because then we can marry and live together and buy a nice house with a white picket fence."  
>What was he talking about?<br>"Why?"  
>"Because I love you."<br>That made her fall silent. Very silent. She saw Jane turn a little nervous. Good. Teresa didn't know what made him say all this or how serious she should take this, so she just repeated her statement.  
>"Why?"<br>Jane raised one eyebrow.  
>"Pretending you didn't read my list, are we?" She immediately flushed a deep red. "Well, that's okay. It's the denial that makes it interesting." If possible, her face got even more flustered.<br>"I... I'm not..."  
>"Yes, you are." The confidence is his voice left her breathless and she couldn't help but hearing the truth shimmer trough his words. "Maybe I was a bit rash just now," he added, suddenly serious."But my beautiful Teresa, would you go on a date with me?" The female detective suddenly found all her objections flown away into every direction, disappearing into thin air. Hell, she thought, why not? Why not give this a chance even though I'm still not convinced this is going to work? I might as well see how it'll turn out.<br>"Okay. fine," she muttered. His answering and totally overwhelming 1000-watt smile made her a little dizzy. "But there will be no couch."  
>"But..." Jane whined.<br>"Not yet, at least." His eyes lit up. Lisbon sighed. What did she started? She got up from her chair and gave him a small push. "You go back to your pathetic pretend to work. Pick me up tonight at nine?" He nodded and turned to leave, when he suddenly turned around again and grasped her wrist. In a smooth movement, he pulled her to him and their lips linked together. Jane released her before she even had the chance to grasp what just happened, but not before he whispered "you bet," against her lips, lights sparkling in his eyes. And then he was gone, leaving Lisbon behind with trembling lips and shock in her eyes. When she finally got a hold of herself, she sank down in her chair. Through her open door she could see Jane lying on his couch, a huge smile plastered on his face. That made her smile for a second too, even though she would never admit it. The detective stared at the paperwork that she was determined to finish today, and that she never would get done now anymore.

Lisbon huffed and mumbled under her breath:  
>"you don't like white fences anyways."<p>

_

_We all need the darkness  
>to see the light<br>in our own eyes_

(Jason Mraz - Everything is sound)  
><strong><span><br>The End  
><span>**  
><span>A/N Okay, after hours of writing I'm done! What do you think? Better than the previous version? Should I ever write a sequel? Should I be kicked off this site? Will I ever stop these stupid questions that no one reads anyway? Review!


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